Running On Home
by missgoflightly
Summary: Post-Eclipse. Excludes BD. J/B. Bella made a choice at the end of 'Eclipse' but here, she begins to realize she may have made the wrong one.
1. Chapter 1

**Notes: **So I wrote this one idle evening because I felt inspired and amused by a few other J/B fics I had read recently and because I had never written one myself I decided to give it a try so bear with me, yes? :) R & R appreciated. Post-Eclipse, excludes BD.

**RUNNING ON HOME**

"_More in resignation than irritation or panic, she returned to her room. There was no confusion in her mind: these too-vivid, untrustworthy impressions, her self-doubt, the intrusive visual clarity and eerie differences that had wrapped themselves around the familiar were no more than continuations, variations of how she had been seeing and feeling all day. Feeling, but preferring not to think. Besides, she knew what she had to do and she had known it all along."_ - Extract from Atonement, by Ian McEwan.

PART ONE 

It was a fortnight before the wedding - _my_ wedding, I had to remind myself – and I stood idly before my full-length mirror, preening. I had on my wedding dress, the _Anne of Green Gables _fantasy, the adjustments Alice had made were almost finished. Accompanied with the vintage lace, the pearls my soon to be sister in law had added and ladylike shoes the image was as close as I would currently get to what I might possibly look like at the actual event. But instead of receiving the pleasure of seeing a nicely ironed out sweet young bride on the eve of marital bliss I was looking into the reflection of a fifty year old woman attending the wedding of her granddaughter. Definitely not virgin bride material. Staring at this image I cocked my head to the side and wondered how had I not realized this before? At the same time I started to panic, a nervous sweat breaking out over my pale forehead, as I realized I simply could _not_ wear this dress. It was ridiculous. _I_ was ridiculous! I pulled it off, for once uncaring if I ripped any of the delicate fabric or the loosely attached buttons. Abruptly I didn't care about any of them. To hell with this dress! I thought. I was irritated by it, I was irritated by the shoes, by the pearls and most of all by that damn wedding ring that didn't seem to go with any of my clothes.

Luckily, Alice had ordered several other 'stand-by' wedding gowns 'just in case' she trilled 'anything goes wrong' which considering whose wedding it was, wasn't exactly surprising. I had never seen use for any of these before but then again I had never felt so oddly frustrated by the words _love_ or _Edward_ or _eternal_ before. I moved to my cupboard and pulled out the dresses all encased in shiny plastic.

The first I tried on was radically different to my 'chosen' dress – it was ultra modern, short and austere. I zipped it up, scraped my hair back into a bun and then thrust my feet into a pair of simple ballet flats that were lying at the foot of my bed. I checked my mirror again. Not good. The shape of the dress was unsuited to my short, skinny figure and it made my skin look paler than usual. By now, the sweat had spread to other parts of my anatomy and hurriedly I tried option number two – an off white halter neck gown with a dreamy peach-coloured organza belt cinched at the waist. I didn't need to see it as much as feel the sumptuous silk settling oddly all over my frame to know it was completely wrong.

Near to tears I pulled it off and found my way back into sweats and a t-shirt. Flopping back onto the bed, I sighed. There was one final dress lying on my bed – a simple sweetheart neckline with a big filmy skirt – but I knew better than to try it on. Maybe I just wasn't virgin bride material. Sighing I closed my eyes, trying to envision going up to Edward, _my_ Edward and saying, 'Hey, you know what? How about I wear a black wedding dress? Huh?' I cringed at the mere thought of his reaction.

What was wrong with me? I was so…so tired and felt so useless, as if a wave of exhaustion had washed over my being and filled me with dread and depression. There was only one thing I wanted to do and that was phone my mother. I had never had a real girlfriend to discuss such issues with and Renee was as close as that came. She would probably know exactly what to say and even if she didn't, her understanding silence on the other end of the phone would be enough.

This however wasn't about to happen considering the fact that a week ago today I had called her and hung up before the second ring. I had tried several times since then to do the same but each attempt was more pathetic than the last. I was terrified. What would Renee say? How disappointed she would? Well, the voice of reason in my head replied, very. She would be very very disappointed in you.

The only other person I could call was Jacob, though he wouldn't understand his easygoing tone and throaty laugh would at least help me relax. But, and a painful lump rose in my throat as I though this, I had no idea where Jacob was. The Pack – as I had ominously begun to refer to them as – did know but had no intention of informing me about his whereabouts. At more rational points of time, I was able to remind myself that this was good – I did know Jacob was safe, he was coming home after we left, would be looked after, etc, etc – because right now me and Jake probably weren't the best things to consider. Especially not thoughts such as 'me', 'Jake', 'comfort', 'security' and 'love' – these were definitely all in the 'Very Wrong' category.

I sighed again – more loudly this time and placed a head over my already shut eyes. What was I going to do? This question kept assaulting me and I knew it wasn't just because my wedding dress wasn't right. There was something much bigger at work here, something I simply couldn't – or didn't want - to acknowledge.

So I followed my cowardly first instinct and crept off my bed, down the stairs to the kitchen where Charlie was sitting, dealing with some paperwork from the station. He rarely brought such things home with him but recently ever since my engagement and announcement he had spent more time at home then ever. This action hurt me more than anything else, even more perhaps than Jacob leaving it. It wasn't a big thing – in fact it was in all respects a little thing, maybe even a trivial thing but I knew the bigger thing behind it. The bigger thing I wasn't prepared to face.

Reader, I should probably confide in you Charlie's reaction to the news of my engagement which involved several days of shouting, yelling, begging, pleading and threatening to call Renee. His current silence on the matter was a blessing, the only blessing he had really given us for Charlie had refused to even consider giving me away though Alice had often consoled me since, saying 'I'm sure he's going to change his mind, Bella.'

As I entered the kitchen, Charlie looked up. He must have recognized something in my face because he broke out into a gentle smile.

"Hi Bells, you okay?"

"Yeah dad," I replied softly, "You want some water or something?"

"Sure," he answered and I poured us both big glasses of cool clear liquid. He got on with his work and I perched myself on the kitchen counter. Sitting there, watching Charlie scribble away as the light from his watch bounced off the pen he was writing with and downing icy water, I felt the fog in my thoughts clear. Suddenly, unexpectedly I knew what I had to.

I jumped down, the soles of my feet slapping against the tiled floor.

"Charlie, I'm going out for a while, kay?"

He turned and eyed me suspiciously, "Be back soon?"

I grinned as best as I could though it may have seemed more akin to a grimace, "In time to make you dinner."

Then I leapt up stairs, pulled on some jeans, boots and an old jacket. Grabbing the keys to my truck and bolting outside, I sucked in a big gulp of fresh, unclogged Forks summer air. With my heart in my throat, I got inside.

**XXX**

I found the house looking nothing like how I had left it. Apprehensively for I was already hyperventilating at the thought of what I had to do I approached it. The already uninviting residence of the Cullens looked emptier than usual, the curtains drawn, the lights drained away and silent and foreboding as a household of vampires should have been.

Realization struck me so hard in the gut I almost fell but gathered my wits in time.

_'No,'_ I said staunchly, '_They couldn't have...wouldn't have left. I have no idea the possible outcomes of today, I only want to talk to Edward.' _

Clinging desperately to this thought, I stumbled to the doorstep and rung the bell. Hearing no reply, I reached up and knocked on the door once, twice, three times before I was all out banging, shrieking, yelling to be heard.

There was no reply. Shuddering convulsively with sobs, I tore myself away from the entrance when I noticed a small piece of white paper folded neatly underneath my left foot.

I recoiled like I had been slapped in the face.

Picking it up and unfolding it carefully, I read as I staggered to the car, tears dripping blindly onto the paper.

_Dear Bella _

_My love, you are dear to me and have been like no other. I love you and always will with all my heart and mind. But Alice has seen into the future and seen your choice – the one you have yet to make. Do not be angry, beautiful girl, there is happiness in store for you. This is best for all of us. I know you will understand. _

_Yours forever, _

_Edward. _

As I read it once, twice, three times and almost resigned myself to hysterics, then and there leaning against my car, a variety of emotions swept over me. Anger, distrust, anguish, shock and most of all despair. But amongst all of these, each one howling for my attention, one dull thought broke to the surface.

_Well at least you aren't the only coward here. _

**XXX**

Later, I don't know how much later I only know it was late enough to be dark, I got home and stumbled into the house. Charlie took one look at me and couldn't compose his expression of aghast horror back to quaint astonishment and paternal caring. I shook my head at him, saying something along the lines of "Please" and "_I_ broke it off" and "Don't worry" before I charged helplessly to my room and collapsed on top of my bed, amidst the mess of wedding dresses and decorations.

Later, I curled up into a ball and cried myself to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**RUNNING ON HOME**

_"__**I **__care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself. I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad — as I am now."_ – Extract from Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte.

PART TWO

After the Cullens left, after the second Apocalypse swept over my world, I felt like burying myself under the covers and cocooning my grief and sorrow into a little nest under my bed. Of course, other circumstances and eventually Life got in the way of this plan and it lured me out to meals, to the bathroom and to check my poor father wasn't going sick with worry. When I wasn't doing these things (which was often) I was in my room, indulging in self-pity and bereavement. Though I knew the step I had take, the step I had meant to take I still couldn't bring myself to wrench myself away from Forks, from the forest, from _them. _ I considering deferring my education at Dartmouth. College and any thoughts akin to it seemed so distant they had become downright trivial. I didn't see the point. I didn't see the need. All I wanted to do was sit in my broken doll mess before somebody else swooped in and saved me. Unfortunately this time, I was missing one vital piece of such a puzzle: Jacob Black.

Two weeks after the Cullens left, I received a letter from the family in question. It came in an nondescript brown envelope which held a creased yellowing piece of lined paper which held the verdict of my fate. I ripped it open and read it with reverence and trembling fingers.

_To Bella, _

_We are aware we have put you in grave danger considering the vampire world, the Volturi and our arrival in Forks. We apologize for this and would like you to know that the question of our Italian 'government' has been settled and will not bother you any further. We hope for your health and welfare. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Jasper _

I read it three times and collapsed against my bedpost. Jasper? What did it mean? The least friendly of the Cullens writing to me? There was the better light to consider it in: Edward and Alice did not want to hurt themselves by corresponding with me but then why not Carlisle, or Esme – the two diplomatic figures of the group? The idea of the worst shook me hard and I swayed and trembled with tears at the thought of the sacrifices they had made – for _my useless sake. _I crawled back into bed and once again, sobbed until a deep dreamless slumber possessed me.

**XXX**

I guess you could call it destiny or fate if you believe in that kind of thing. I called it closure.

Reader, after that letter, Forks gradually changed. It was no longer a safe haven but neither was it a dark hell that I was confined in. It was simply a dreary little town that I had grown out of and suddenly I was overwhelmed with the need to get out, get _outside, _see the world,_ live my life_. Which was exactly what I did.

After the letter, I packed my bags and kissed Charlie goodbye. I had already said farewell to most of my friends and then avoided them, with exception of Angela, to prevent probing about my broken engagement. I sent a letter to Billy and addressed the Pack in it but didn't go see any of them, no longer feeling at home in La Push. Then I got on a train and went to Dartmouth.

I spent four years at Dartmouth, doing American Literature. I swayed from the wells I normally drank at, those wonderful English writers – the Henry Jameses and the Jane Austens – to consume the likes of Fitzgerald, Kerouac, London, Wharton, Hemingway and more. I fell in love with books I had never considered before like _Fight Club _and _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. _I made friends, yes Reader, after a comatose month in Forks I had grieved enough and entered Dartmouth more vivacious, eager and enthusiastic than I ever had been in my life and companionship was top on my list of priorities.

I met guys. I fell in love – not with anybody I had any chance of getting I'm afraid – but with a James Dean poster my room-mate always had up over her bed. Together we watched _Rebel Without A Cause _and _East of Eden _and she introduced me to her gang and they became, for a while anyway, my unofficial girlfriends. At twenty I fell in lust and lost my virginity to a beautiful Korean graphics design student who had long, fine hands and penchant for playing the piano. After this, dating became easier, smoother – no longer the rocky terrain of pitfalls and barbed wire it had once been.

After graduating Dartmouth, I moved to New York, high in the hopes I could rent a beautiful apartment in Manhattan somewhere in the Fifties, á la Audrey Hepburn in _Breakfast at Tiffany's. _Instead I received a drab apartment on east First Street, next to a Mexican take-out place no less, so it always smelt of enchiladas. It didn't matter to me though. For once, I was content or as near to it as I could get.

I kept in touch with Charlie and Angela. Angela moved far away to San Francisco and our correspondence dimmed. Charlie, however, came up to see me a lot – he enjoyed New York almost as much as I did. He told me little about our friends in Forks, simply relieving me that Jacob was back (back home, back in school, back living his life as was appropriate) and never mentioned the Cullens. I promised him vaguely that one day I would tell him what had passed between us, though we both knew I never would.

I got a job, working as a freelance journalist. Mostly my articles were featured in small up-and-coming New York magazines and newspapers but on occasion I sent them to bigger publications too. When I was twenty five, I delighted that a scathing review of mine, on arts and culture in the twenty first century, was published in _Vanity Fair. _

I still had trouble sleeping sometimes, but away from Forks, from 'monsters and magic' as Jacob had once called it, my nightmares tormented me less. Sometimes Edward haunted me, his lovely face creased with worry, his hair rumpled, taking my hand in his own chilly grasp and I would wake up shaking and spluttering. Sometimes Jacob visited me too, hot searing flesh burning my skin and I would toss and turn all night after such dreams. For a while, I had one recurring vision that troubled me in the night, the lone silhouette of a far off wolf in a dark forest howling to the moon, howling to me that maybe it was time to come home.

**XXX**

One afternoon, a fine spring afternoon, I took a walk in Central Park to focus my thoughts on a piece I was supposed to be holed up, writing. While I was ambling along, enjoying the fair weather, I caught sight of a familiar figure jogging a few steps away from me. She was tall, tanned and toned, wearing Nike shorts and a tank top, silky black ponytail swishing with every step she took and she had an Ipod clipped to her belt. After a few moments of indecision and hesitation I stepped forward and tapped her on the shoulder, saying loudly, "Excuse me?" while thinking, 'What's the worst that can happen?'

The woman turned around and plucked her headphones out of her ears. At the sight of her face, my heart started pounding hard in my chest.

Yes, reader, it was Leah Clearwater. Twenty six years old. Taking a jog. She looked beautiful as I remembered, even though she was flushed and perspiring. The haughty good looks, the sharp eyebrows and dark eyes scrutinized me for a moment before recognition flashed on her face.

"Bella?" she said, sounding a little weary and I realized her presence gave me a lot more pleasure than mine would ever bring her.

"Leah," I grinned as best as I could, "It is you, isn't it? You look wonderful."

She smiled faintly, "Thanks, so do you. Taking a walk?"

"Yeah, I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, not at all. I was just finishing up."

"Oh good...um, Leah?"

"Yeah?"

"You want to get a bite to eat and catch up, maybe, I mean if you're free..."

She smiled again, kindly this time as I trailed off tripping over my own words, "Sure."

We left the Park and got some pizza and a pair of Diet Cokes, chatting as we walked. Conversation with Leah was easy and effortless – nothing like what I had expected. She spoke briefly of the Pack, teasing me when I asked if they still ran around as giant wolves in the night and saying they had no need to since the vampires had departed. Like Charlie she steered mostly clear of conversation concerning the Cullens, so instead we swapped trivia on our lives. She was working at a yoga instructor, teaching classes at NYU and not seeing anyone. The Pack she said were all doing okay, Jake was working in a garage and working up to a reputation as the best mechanic in La Push – a thought that made me smile. She told me frankly that she rarely thought of Sam these days and I believed her. When she spoke of Emily, her eyes saddened and she simply said, "We don't talk much any more" and so we left it at that.

After that afternoon, I saw Leah a lot more. We became friends. She dragged me along to yoga classes and I, in turn, took her out to see old films and accompany me to a creative writing seminar. We went on runs together and she read my stuff and we had sleepovers like little kids, watching _Sex & The City _and _Mad Men _to the wee hours of the morning. I realized, quickly enough, after twenty six years of searching I had finally found myself 'a girlfriend'.

**XXX**

One morning, one cold grey drizzly New York morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, with a start. It was half past five, thirty minutes before my alarm clock was scheduled, and I reached for the phone. In my groggy state, I answered curtly, "Hello?"

A familiar comforting voice accosted me on the other end.

"Bella?"

Within moments of hearing his voice, I was more wide awake than ever.

"Charlie, what's wrong?"

His voice was strained with emotion and there was a throb of pain that was audible when he spoke again.

"Bella. Billy...Billy Black is dead."

**NOTES: **sobs I guess Billy had to take one for the team, huh? He will be missed, mark my words. Anyway, so this chapter is up super fast for plenty of reasons. Firstly, thanks to all my lovely readers and reviewers who spurned me on, also because I had this part mostly written in my head already and because it's a Saturday so I have the luxury of being able to shun my homework. Please tell me what you think and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon. More action, I swear and maybe even a little Jacob. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**RUNNING ON HOME**

_'Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that's no matter – tomorrow we will run faster, stretch our arms out further...And one fine morning - _

_So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.' _- extract from The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

CHAPTER THREE

"So, how've you been?"

_Plink, plink, plink. _

"You already asked me that."

_Plink, plink, plink. _

"Oh."

_Plink, plink, plink. _

"Sorry."

I sighed inaudibly as I watched Jacob Black crane over the ramshackle engine of a neighbour's Nissan Micra. A fine sheen of sweat had gathered around the finely attuned muscles of his back, where they were visible from the top of his loose black shirt. Sitting there in the alcove Jake had madefor me in his old Rabbit, in his garage enjoying a soda was just like old times.

Correction. _Should_ have been like old times if we had been able to exchange two words with each other without falling into a trap.

Reader, I should rewind and fill you in. Shortly before this day, I had returned to Forks and taken comfort in being able to cook and clean for Charlie as he nursed his grief. The following day we had gone to the funeral, which had passed in a blur of colours against a backdrop of dismal rain and awkward 'Hi, how are you?' type conversations. I hadn't had a chance to talk to Jacob at all until two days later when I had finally gathered the nerve to arrive at his front door, asking if I could be allowed in under the ambiguous claim that I wanted to 'catch up.' This was where we were, two hours later, me watching as Jake work, unable to find anything original or marginally personal to say to one another.

Some best friends.

Reader, no doubt you are curious to know what Jake looked and sounded like. As far as physiognomy went, he was much the same – impossibly tall, unbelievably ripped and handsome in a swarthy kind of way. His countenance however troubled me. He wasn't exactly melancholy, even eight years since I had left Forks and his father's death, Jake was still buoyant, relatively carefree, in other words: still a good guy, who in other circumstances would have always had a light teasing comment or joke on his voice, if it had not been clouded over with the despair of losing a beloved parent.

With a sudden yelp of pain, Jacob broke the tension as well as my reverie. I hurried over to where he was crouched on the floor, nursing his left hand. I snatched it from his clasp to examine and saw a scar had torn across the fleshy part of his hand between thumb and first finger. However, miraculously as I watched, the cut dissolved and materialized into a fabric of finely hewn lines and threads of red-brown skin. Expelling a light 'huh' Jake returned to his work.

I was baffled. "Jake-bwa-what?"

He looked at me and smiled, the first true smile since he had seen me at the door, and tapped his head, "Werewolf remember?"

"But Leah said you guys don't do that anymore," I protested.

"No, we don't," he said, stressing the 'we' ever so slightly, "But sometimes I cheat."

This was accompanied by a smile so flippant and carefree that I couldn't help but smile back.

"I thought you hated being a wolf?"

He stretched to six-foot-seven plus and rubbed his chin, "I did. But after...after you left I spent so much time as a wolf – well I felt a kinship to the...beast within to coin a cheesy line. Y'know it was actually a lot of fun, especially out in the wide open. When you're alone or far off enough from the 'Pack' to be alone, all you have is the big, blue sky above you and your thought is law. You forget things like your pain and heartbreak and whatever, you can just live for the moment in a way you can't when you're human, y'know? Even things like metal fences and jam-packed highways don't bother you – there's just such a tremendous capacity to," he paused and blushed, "Sorry, I'm rambling aren't I?"

"No, no," I said quickly, "No, please go on, I think it's interesting."

This much was true. I thought the unbroken, undisturbed chasm of peace Jacob spoke of would have been heaven. There was one thing I wanted most in the world besides to be loved deeply and intensely and that was freedom, to be able to run, not to run _on home _or run _away_, but just be able to run whenever and wherever I wanted.

"So what about you?" Jacob shifted topic, "I hear you're writing now, yeah?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "It's a lot of fun."

"Good. Man, I remember Charlie was so happy when your first article came out he showed it to everyone," Jake chuckled to himself, "You should really keep your old man in check, Bells."

I laughed, "Did you read it?"

"Of course," he pouted in fake umbrage, "I read everything you write."

I rolled my eyes, "Sure, sure. What did you think of last month's essay on love in a big city?"

He cocked his head, "I thought you'd been reading too much Candace Bushnell maybe."

I laughed again and got up to stretch my legs. He watched me as I wiggled my toes, arching and flexing my feet in turn.

"So are you seeing anyone?" I asked as conversationally as possible.

He shrugged, "A few people, here and there. No one special. You?"

I stretched languidly and settled back in the car, drawing my feet against my chest, "No, not really. I mean," I flapped a hand before my face, "everything's been so hard, you know?"

And then like a dam I couldn't keep from exploding, the tsunami of self-pity and pain that I hadn't been able to pour out to anyone who would truly understand since the Cullens left, came flooding out of my mouth to destroy any intimacy me and Jake had managed to salvage for ourselves that afternoon.

"Everything just sort of collapsed after the Cullens left, I mean," I went on, "I just sort of wandered around a lot, thinking about how I could have changed stuff maybe if the whole 'immortal forever' thing hadn't been so important and in my thoughts all the time. Looking back, I think it was definitely essential that me and Edward should have talked and just considered our relationship from a much more rational perspective, at least put the marriage stuff on hold-"

"Bella?" Jacob interrupted me, sounding suddenly incensed, "What the hell are you doing?"

"What?" I replied stupidly, "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean," Jacob continued, looking irate and fixing me with an angry black stare that pinned me to the wall, "What, are you trying to make me jealous or something?"

"Jealous?" I echoed, "No, why on earth, Jake I just wanted to confide in you, you know, all of this stuff that has happened..."

"You?" he laughed bitterly, unexpectedly reminding me of the old Jake, the Jake who couldn't be friends with me, Jake-the-big-bad-werewolf, "What you've gone through? Bella, my father just died, couldn't you have at least asked me about how that felt before you went off on your little tirade?"

"Jake, I wanted to," I tried to explain, "I mean I just thought all of those 'I'm so sorry for your loss' condolences are so...trite and Jake..."

"Bella," he shook his head at me as if I was unable to comprehend what he was trying to articulate, "Bella, I don't care whether it's trite or fake or whatever. But, at least it would have shown you cared...cared for something...other than yourself."

"Jacob, what are you talking about?" I queried, almost shouting now as I felt heat prickle the backs of my eyes, "All I wanted...I just want..."

"What?" he snapped, the first peal of true contempt evident in his voice, "What do you, Bella Swan _really _want?"

For a moment, I stopped. I tried to find the answer. I fumbled and then it hit me.

Yes, what did I, Bella Swan really want? Well, I wanted this didn't I? This life, I had, as a successful well-off journalist who lived in the great place with the great friends and okay love life? Wasn't that what I wanted?

All those career-oriented forms you fill out at school, asking you what you want to make of yourself, your life, the little boxes that you tick, you lie because you don't know and suddenly you're tricked into an existence that you only ever pretended to want. All this time, I had been so happy that I had been doing this fucking independent thing but it seemed it was all empty bullshit I had deluded myself into believing. I mean, what was so great about what I was doing? I had abandoned my friends, discarded my father, for what, so I could become a better person? I wasn't a better person – I was the same selfish, silly girl who had left Forks at age eighteen to try to make something of herself when she didn't even know who she really was. Oh god, I felt like ducking my head under my arms at the thought, all this time I had been so unbelievably wrong. I had looked down at Jacob, at Charlie, living this small shut-off life in Forks when really I had been living the small shut-off life. Even after Edward, I couldn't muster the effort to form any kind of true identity for myself. The name, my so-called name, Bella Swan, resounded flatly in my head with all the substance of an empty can of sardines.

Jacob must have noticed something changed imperceptibly in my face at that moment because he rose, reached for me and though I wanted his arms, warm and safe, trapped around me I pushed free, stumbled out of the garage as tears obscured my vision. I wanted him to follow me, cradle me to his chest, ask me what was wrong and when he didn't, it only started to get the tears more freely flowing so by the time I managed to drive home I'd pulled over twice on the way and a mask of slick wetness had plastered itself upon my face.

That evening I booked a train ticket for New York and was back in Manhattan within a matter of days.


End file.
